The Sins of Society
by The Magic Of Words
Summary: There were three sins in society; being different, being gay, and being magic. Too bad Harry was all three. WARNING Possible TR/HP, swearing, bullying.
1. Finish a battle and start a war

**There were three sins in society; being different, being gay, and being magic. Too bad Harry was all three. **

**_DAY 1: Finish a battle and start a war._**

I rub my head. Through my reflection in the Student's Office window, I make out an 'F'. For freak, or fag, I guess.

"He's fortunate to have you, Mr Dursley," schmoozes the secretary. "Got into another fight today, he did."

A one sided one. I scowl.

"Bloody f- boy," Mr Dursley growls. "Just like his father."

"But… not like _that_, was he?" The secretary asks worriedly. I cross my arms, and sink further into the sofa. "Because we wouldn't accept-"

"You'd bloody well let him stay- _if_ he was. Which he wasn't. But, if he was, we'd let the other children beat it out of him."

"Alright, Mr Dursley." The secretary sighs, and smiles up at him through her lashes. I wouldn't know why. Even as a respectable _normal_ person, my uncle is about as attractive as a whale. A very unattractive whale. So yeah.

Uh. Feeling badass today, Harry?

I'm pathetic.

"You're pathetic," he hisses as he pulled me out of the office. I find myself nodding (wouldn't you know it) pathetically.

"I know."

"You had bloody well know! Miss-" he struggles for a name. I can't label her either, even though I have to see her every day. "-Secretary was right! We've given you so much! Now pay it back and be normal, or it's all over."

All over. Was that an option?

"Right," I say, with as much enthusiasm as I could muster. "I'll ask Dudley's friends not to hit me anymore, so we can all be friends!"

"You're not worthy of washing Dud's football boots," yet I do it anyway. "You little _freak_." He began to walk at his greatest speed. Ooh, look! He might yet beat that wall.

"So I'm walking home?"

~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""

My superspy skills come into action the moment I take a step out of school. My eyes scan the courtyard suspiciously. I'm a coward, hiding in the bomb shelters. My schedule is the same as any other day; I'd wait outside the school for ten minutes, tapping my foot and hoping they were gone, but all their mamas were junkies or too damn rich to care, so they stayed and waited, just because they could. Like soldiers in the trenches, we were. Squatting behind columns, bushes, trees. The enemy could appear at any moment, shooting like madmen. I'd check my watch, and think, 'hell, I musta got them this time'!

Trust me to be optimistic at the worst of times.

They dropped in front of me like bombs, somewhere along the way. Dudley had gotten a ride with his dad, but it's still tradition to wage war after school hours.

"Weirdo."

"Freak."

But such soft insults turn harsh when I hit them with a gun of my own, triggering a battle from a schoolyard fight.

"You just hit Tom!" Draco Malfoy whistled, impressed. I was pretty proud of myself, too. Sure, Riddle wasn't hitting me, he's a bit of a shadow in the background, a very impressive shadow at that. But still. I punched him! I have self-esteem! Then Malfoy slugs me, right in the face. Moment ruined.

"Good one, Malfoy!" Cheers one of the inferior ones, Crabbe I think, but Malfoy still glows. Supercilious bastard, he is.

"I hate you," I snarl, adrenaline pumping. Good comeback, Harry. Keep at it. Also, stop talking to yourself. "Go to hell!"

"Meet you there, wizard!" Laughs Malfoy. He kicks me hard, again, his foot smashing into my nose. _Crack_.

"I think you broke it," I tell him, my voice oddly squeaky. The adrenaline had died. Maybe I could try again…? "Fuck you." Oh, you go Potter!

"Uh, no thanks, fag." He says, making a face. Goyle laughed.

Backfire. Walked right into that one. I sighed, abruptly silent. I give up. I'll give it a go again, tomorrow.

Malfoy seems bored with it too. He slicks back his hair, gives me one last unenthusiastic kick, and swaggers off, kicking the basketball hoop as he left. He has an obsession with feet, that one. Podophilia, perhaps?

"Pull down your trousers, moron!" Justin Finch shouts after him, laughing- everyone knew him. He'd disowned his witch mother, Willa Fletchley. Malfoy turns, confused, but smirking.

"Something you wanna see, Jake?"

"Freakin' faggot. You've got blood on your sock, dammit!"

"Hell!" He snorts in return, unfolding his baggy trouser legs. "Cheers, mate!"

They all move out after that, my battle lost, and them smug in victory. Riddle's last to go, hanging about like some dark evil presence. His cheek was red, from my awesome punch. Might even bruise! OK, so maybe, looking back on it, my punch was -dare I say it- pathetic. But, whatever, I punched a guy!

Riddle seemed to notice my ill-kept excitement. He leaned over, and I bet I nearly blushed. God darned sexual preference.

"I may not punch you, but I swear, I will hurt you. I will fucking ruin you, _Potter_."

How was badass so easy for him? Lucky muggle.

Oh wait.

"What?"

He was already walking away. How could he even walk so awesomely? It's just like Snape's! Even though I don't have any classes with him, I heard that guy had a crush on my mom. Awkward…

What was I saying?

Oh yeah. Tom Freaking Riddle wanted to kill me. Without hurting me.

Oh my God…

_Poison_?

~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""

"Now, boy. Make yourself comfortable," Mr Dursley says nastily.

"Um, uncle, there's no chairs left. Dudley's taking up the sofa."

He glared at me, not dignifying my logic with an answer. "We're hearing rumours that you are," he shuddered a little, beady eyes narrowing, "_gay._"

Oh. Well, forget Snape awkward. This was reaching a new level.

"Tell us, as the respectable, good family who raised you, that this accusation wasn't correct."

Heh heh! He didn't tell me to tell the truth, did he? Loophole!

"It was not correct," I tell him solemnly.

"Good," he sighs, bowling-ball shoulders slumping in relief. "Imagine, Petty, if the boy was in love with our dear handsome Dudders."

My petty Aunt shivers uncomfortably, and shoots me a glower. I'm not feeling guilty. Nuh uh. I mean, it's not _my_ fault.

And being attracted to Dudley? _NEVER_. NEVER. **NEVER**. I have standards!

Uh. I'm going to go wash my head. Ugh, unholy thoughts. That's just disgusting. ~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""

Seriously? Dudley's in the shower?

Fine then. I'll dunk my head in the kitchen sink. Compromise!

~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""

Kitchen duties? How was that a punishment, Aunt Petty? I do those every day, regardless of whether I'm "soiling the sink".

Who am I kidding? I'm overjoyed!

~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""

She noticed my joy. Note to self: work on poker-face. Now I have no dinner. On the other hand, Riddle can't poison me this way. Success!

~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""

I beat you Riddle. How's it feel?

Hm, then again…

**Huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuunnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnngggggggggggggggeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeerrrrrrrrrrrrr**~

~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""

… I'll just rob some of Dudley's 'secret' food from his room, while he's having a potentially poisonous dinner.

~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""

Goodnight.


	2. Paranoia, Chocolate and Lookin' Spiffing

**_DAY 2: Paranoia and Chocolate and Lookin' S- uh, Spiffing._**

I'm in the locker room. I give my locker a Malfoy-styled kick, dent it, and slump down beside it. My life is a failure. Even my locker hates me. Suddenly my locker shakes, and I leap away. The headmaster, Dumbledore, jumped out. He's fashioned his beard into a triangle, using bobbins and ribbons, and he looks grave.

"Harry, you are the Chosen One." Huh? "You-Know-Who has chosen to kill you, over Neville Largebottom."

"No, I don't know who. And don't you mean Neville Longbottom?" I say, defending my fellow social outcast.

"Whatevs," Dumbledore rolls his eyes abruptly. He lets down his beard, flinging bobbins to the ground. He gives me a look, like – _do I look better with my hair down? Yeah? I think so too. _"You, Potta, you seen Gellert?"

"Whosit? And who are you?"

"I'm Dumby, stupid. Gellert Grindelwald, you motherf-"

I clear my throat. "Um, Grindelwald? Wasn't he a psychotic wizard who proceeded to kill a few hundred muggles?"

"Oh, shuddup," Dumbledore says bashfully. "You'll make him blush."

"Heh heh, I am rather-" Dumbledore grabs my throat, and I cough and splutter. "W-w-wah?"

"He is _my_ man," Dumbledore hisses. "You little-" His head shoots and he pulls his hands to his heart, lovesick. I drop to the floor. "OMG! It must be him!"

"Whosit?"

"Gellert, you b-" Dumbledore's expression darkens. "No, this aura is as black as night. Gellert's is purple. Oh yeah. Gellert's in prison. I forgot. Wait- no! It can't be!"

"Whosit?"

"You stupid boy-who-lived! It's you-know-who!"

"I lived? And who? And hyphens?"

The locker shudders, and suddenly, and oh-so-awesomely, Tom Riddle stalks out.

"You _know_ who!"

"_He's_ you-know-who?"

"You know who?"

"N- What?" But Dumbledore had vanished. Tom Riddle creeps closer still, and I narrow my awesome green eyes awesomely. So maybe I can't be badass, but I sure as hell can be awesome.

He looks s- spiffing today. Yes, spiffing. Splendid. Tea and scones.

"I'm going to kill you, Potter. With my spiffing looks and badass Snape walk. And-" no, it can't be! "Chocolate!"

My cravings claw at my stomach. _Take the chocolate, Harry. Take it and EAT IT! _Yeeesssss….

"NO!" I yell, tears running down my face. "You poisoned it, didn't you!" I sniff, and send him a look of disgust. "And I will _not_ eat Turkish delight, you idiot. I have standards."

"Standards," he leans closer. I go red as a cherry. Ooh. I like cherries. The pips taste bad, though. Where was I? Oh yeah. God darned sexual preference. "Do you really?" His breath tickles my ear. Tickles? I remember that one time including a cat and a feather- never mind.

"Heh… heh… heh…" I pause –_sigh_- pathetically. "… Maybe?"

"Before I kill you, Potter, you can ask a question," he slips back into the shadows, but I know he's somewhere.

"A-any question?"

"But of course," Riddle grins, like the Cheshire cat, hanging from the rafters. "I supply the best." Wink-wink.

I think for a moment. Hm. _Are you evil? Did you poison Dudley's sweets? Am I insane? How are you so badass? _"Does Malfoy have podophilia?" I blurt out with. _Of all the questions, you utter moron_.

"But of course," Riddle says again, smirking. His shoes disappear, and he looks up at me. "Aren't mine irresistible?"

I run through my list of awesome replies, but, as usual, don't quite come out with the same thing. "They're, uh, gorgeous." _Of all the answers, you utter moron_.

"My thanks," Riddle says smugly. "I am pretty beautiful."

"Isn't it handsome? 'Beautiful' is for girls."

He looks up at me through his lashes, simpering evilly. "But you don't like girls, do you Harry?"

~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""

I jump about a foot into the air, eyes wide. Bejeepers- that was one hell of dream. I look at my alarm clock suspiciously. Through the blinds light's pouring in, yet the clock was it's only 2am. Oh well. A clock's a clock… zzz…

I shoot up, again. The sound of Dudley and Mr Dursley driving off, out and away, echoes in my ears.

Somebody's tampered with my clock. That's just- that's just… evil.

I leap out of bed. I give myself a look-over. Dark blue PJ bottoms decorated with moons and stars and a white, crumpled t-shirt reading "I'm Blatantly Awesome".

Stylish, Potter. My hand quickly rushes to my hair. It's ruffled by some invisible force, and I grin. It's a form of awesome in itself, from dear Dad. OK, fine. I won't brush my hair/hide it with a cap today. It's too awesome for that.

I'm too awesome for that. (Being arrogant: achieving self-actualization).

Let's see- overall appearance: "I-literally-just-got-out-of-bed". What's up with the hyphens today? They're everywhere. I feel like I'm forgetting something…

Oh yeah. School.

Godsmackit! ~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""

I enter the school, panting and tired. My baggy top is so awesomely baggy (I'm bringing baggy back, yo!) it doesn't stick to me. I'm attracting a lot of stares today (not that I'm surprised, I'm just so- no, I wasn't going to say _pathetic_. I'm awesome, jerk. And modest. And badass. OK, I'm pushing it now…)

Malfoy looks like Christmas came early (**Heh heh, it IS Christmas as I write this!)**. "Are you in your _pyjamas_, Potter?"

"Yeah, stupid," I roll my eyes in a dream-Dumbledore style. I have a feeling we could've been good friends… Just so freaking inspirational, that man is…

Malfoy doesn't even get angry. He just looks amused right now.

"Do me a favour, Potter. Don't change," he laughs. "See you after school."

OK, so maybe some things don't change. Whatever. Maybe if I give him some chocolate, he'll leave me alone. _Chhhooooccccooooolllllaaaaaaaattttttteeeeee_…

That reminds me of the drea-

_NO! No, Harry! Don't think of it!_

But, me, then you couldn't think of chocolate…

_Oh. Oh, godsmackit, you're right. This is hard._

Could we do it?

_… Hell yeah! We're Harry-Freaking-Potter!_

We can't use hyphens, either, dumbass.

_Who are you callin- Sigh. OK, Harry. And one more thing._

Yeah, me?

_Stop talking to yourself. It's getting creepy._

~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""

I've found myself in the library, in the restricted section. It's lunch. I have yet to see Riddle. I am also surrounded by crumbs of chocolate.

_You savage._

I can't talk to you anymore, remember?

_Godsmackit._

~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""~~"""

"What are you doing here, Potter?" A sharp voice interrupts my eating. "The library's for reading."

I don't look at the know-it-all, but point at the open, unread book in front of me. Cold hands brush past my shoulder, picking up the book.

"'Deciphering Dreams for Dummies?"

"But of course," _no Harry, don't quote him! You fool! _Stop talking to me! I raise my eyes towards the unknown bloke. "You know, I nearly sounded like Tom R-"

_Oh, godsmackit_.

Don't leave me this time, me. I'll need therapy after this.

Because, curse my luck, Tom Riddle was looming over me, in his prefect-perfect glory, baddass-edly tall, looking totally unamused. And here I was thinking I was hilarious.

"Oh really?" His eyes flicker down to my PJs. "Are those-" he stops, and shakes his head.

I blush, just like in the-

_Don't!_

Thanks. Let's rerun that:

I blush**. **God darned sexual preference.

"So," I start, awkwardly. He watches me, playing a perfect poker-face. Oh, am I jealous… "Uh…" Think of something witty, Potter. You can do it! "Does Malfoy had podophilia?" _Oh, bedumbles. Déjà vu much? Dumbass. _

Riddle's lip twitches. He seems pretty astonished. He scrambles to redeem his poker-face, and says, "But of course." He turns away, but stops in his tracks, before the door. "And Potter?"

_Don't stutter_… "Y-yes?" _So close_.

He doesn't face me, but says smugly, as he leaves, one horrible word; "Docket."

Oh, godsmackit.

**Notes: Chapters will be short. I'm writing this for fun. But I won't go under 1K words. Rather than saying God dammit like a normal person, Harry finds himself saying stuff like 'godsmackit' and 'godhitit'. Rather than bejeesus, he might say bedumbles. Finally, dockets are a system of punishment here in Ireland, that I thought I'd use. It's like a yellow card of something- that goes onto your school file. If you get three, your parents are called. If you get four, then you have yourself a detention. **

**PS. The Alarm Clock is an incident to remember, hint-hint (and hyphens!)**

**-MOW.**


	3. Not an Update- For Voldemort

_**This is not an update. My computer didn't save the document. On a happier note-**_

_**Happy Birthday Tom Riddle!**_


End file.
